


old flames

by debilitas



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Found Family, Light Angst, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Relationship(s), bl3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debilitas/pseuds/debilitas
Summary: There's something surreal about being the only sober person in a bar.
Relationships: Brick/Mordecai (Borderlands)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	old flames

**Author's Note:**

> had the sudden urge to write moxxi banter and it went from there yeehaw

There's something surreal about being the only sober person in a bar. It's like being the only one told a very important secret, or wearing glasses in a room of blind men. Mordecai watches strangers stumble about, slurring words, passing out on unclean tables. Wonders if he used to do the same, before coming to the grim conclusion that he probably did.

"Thanks, sugar," Moxxi finally turns her attention to him, bracing herself against the counter in just the right way. Touches the cardboard box between them, pulling it closer with her fingertips.

It must be exhausting to be Mad Moxxi, Mordecai decides. Every movement, every expression is strategic, meant to capitalize on weak men like him. Or the man he used to be, anyway. She plays her role well, performs like the entire galaxy is watching— and it usually is.

"I'm awful grateful; my boys were getting real thirsty," her lips curl into a smug smile while she speaks, looking up at him through dark lashes. Mostly hidden behind thick makeup, he can see the crow's feet around her eyes. "Let me get you something. On the house."

"You know I don't do that anymore," Mordecai says to Moxxi's back. Asking a former addict to deliver cases of booze to a well-stocked bar already feels like a special kind of torture. Maybe a test. It has been a long seven years, and she's eager to get a read on who he's become.

"I know, I know," Moxxi waves him off, retrieving a simple bottle of sparkling water and two mostly clean glasses. "I've heard all about it: you're straight edge now, honey. A _family man_. Who would've thought?"

It's a question, but it's clear that she doesn't want an answer. Moxxi opens the bottle with a single motion of her wrist, pouring it without breaking eye contact. Holds the glass up to her mouth but doesn't drink, waiting for Mordecai. She wants the upper hand in every situation, no matter how petty— he remembers that quite well. Letting out a sigh, he takes a quick sip, liquid burning the back of his throat.

Content with her position, Moxxi takes a long, purposeful swallow. Exposed throat moving in a way that feels indecent, and Mordecai looks away. An awkward silence follows, and in an attempt to stifle it, he takes a dangerous step forward. Asks the million dollar question.

"You think we ever woulda worked out?"

Moxxi quirks a well-groomed brow, flashing a bemused smile. "You been missin' me, string bean?"

Mordecai groans, regretting ever accepting the job. He should've just caved to Tina's begging and let her deliver the box, even if it ended in something explosive. Bombs were much better than being openly mocked by an ex while drinking godawful water.

"Forget it."

"You really want to know?" Moxxi asks, picking through the array of fruits on the counter. Settles on a maraschino cherry, pinches the tiny stem and brings it to her lips.

Letting annoyance seep into his tone, he responds, "That's why I asked."

"I wanted a husband," she says, sharp teeth grazing the thin skin of the cherry. "You wanted a trophy."

A perfect mouth closes around the fruit, and there's an audible pop when the teeth puncture it. Mordecai sympathizes with the thing.

"Now, don't get that sad look. You'll break my heart," Moxxi pouts, now maneuvering the stem of the cherry between her fingers. "We were both stupid: I wanted an alcoholic to love me, and you wanted me to be sweet as honey. Prove to everybody that you weren't a loser. Sounds silly, don't it?"

Mordecai shrugs, noncommittal. Ego thoroughly wounded for the evening, he tries to leave, but a soft hand grips his wrist. Anchors him to the bar, manicured nails digging into the skin just enough to be uncomfortable. He starts to wonder just how much pull Moxxi really has on Sanctuary III, and if he just earned himself a night in the brig for offending her.

Offending her, after she called him pathetic in so many words. God, she really is a special kind of terrifying.

"Do you know why that big lug loves you so much?"

"Watch yourself, Moxxi," Mordecai warns. "Ain't got nothing to do with what happened with you and me."

Moxxi remains unphased, expression glowing with smug satisfaction. "He loves you for who you really are. Always has."

"Thought I was a loser," Mordecai counters, snatching his hand away. Talking about Brick here, in this context, feels so acutely wrong. Like he's tainting a good thing with his old bullshit.

"You are," she replies, resting her chin in the palm of hand. "Not to him, though. It's sweet: the way he looks at you—“

"—What way?"

"Oh, sweetheat," Moxxi shakes her head, blows a breath upward, readjusting a stray strand of dark hair. "Like you put the stars in the sky."

Mordecai feels his heart jump to his throat. Brick's been telling him _I love you_ for years now, cuddling up to him at night. Everyone back on Eden 6 knew something— but not everything. Moxxi acknowledging it, reading into it, makes it real. It's no longer a secret or a possible fluke; another fling in a long lifetime of flings. It's genuine, tangible love, with so much dedication that it can be seen.

Mordecai doesn't think anyone's ever really loved him before. He doesn't blame them. He's prickly, and ugly, and mean. Drunk for so long the years blended together incomprehensibly, with a murky past he refused to speak of. 

It was the same for Brick, too big and loud for his own good. Unintentionally overshadowing the good parts of himself, yet desperate for them to be noticed. Appreciated. They both knew what it was like to be misunderstood, out of place with anyone but each other.

Blinking behind his goggles, Mordecai stands, drink mostly untouched. He doesn't want to be here anymore, especially with this new realization. Moxxi isn't surprised, and for the first time, he sees the woman underneath the white makeup. A woman talked down to all her life, running away from everything she'd ever known to keep her children safe.

Incredibly smart and resourceful, reduced to her body by men that didn't have half the brain she did. Playing into the persona everyone expected her to be, clawing her way to a position of power she truly deserved. Only to remain chronically misunderstood, even by Mordecai himself. Until tonight.

He thinks there might’ve been a time where he could’ve loved her, a brief window to glimpse who she really is. But, he’d long since missed it, and he’s content with where he is now.

She’s out of his league, anyway.

"I'm sorry, Mox," Mordecai says, scrubbing the back of his neck. 

Moxxi — the real one — smiles up at him. "I know, sugar."

Stretching across the bar, she leaves a soft kiss on his cheek. Stains the leather with lipstick, and Mordecai feels a dim flame finally burn out. Suffocated by maturity and the night’s conversation. He’s glad to see it go.

Mordecai finds Brick crammed into Tannis’ lab, holding a hunk of frozen meat against his face. The fresh bruises and black eye weren’t there an hour ago, and Mordecai has a pretty good idea of who left them there.

“Who won?” He asks, sauntering over. The examination table the other man’s sat on looks one wrong move from collapsing under his weight.

“It was a tie,” Brick says, then sighs. Adds quietly, “Amara. Ain’t fair: she’s got those badass siren fists.”

Mordecai can’t suppress a smile. “I won’t tell nobody, big guy.” He moves to hold the meat in place for him when Tannis pipes up.

“Careful with that! I want it back,” she says, holding a beaker filled with an unidentifiable liquid. “You animals have no idea how hard it was to get ahold of.”

Exchanging a glance with Brick, Mordecai asks, “What the hell is it?”

Tannis blinks. “Human flank. Now stop interrupting me with useless questions.” 

She pours the thick liquid into another beaker, and the combination produces a sickening puff of smoke. Nodding to herself, she scribbles a note onto a scrap of paper.

“It’s workin’,” Brick concurs with a halfhearted shrug. 

“So does ice.” Mordecai takes the meat from him, frigid through his gloves. Holds it gently against Brick’s face, willing the swelling to go down.

Brick seems to notice the lipstick left on Mordecai’s mask. Frowns, then rubs it away with a big thumb. 

“Are you an organ donor?” Tannis interjects. “You, the big one. I’d love to pick through your gargantuan innards.”

Brick turns to her. “What’s my name?”

Tannis pales. “What? It’s, uh...”

“I’ll give you my spleen if ya remember,” Brick continues, though Mordecai’s sure he doesn’t know what a spleen is. “C’mon.”

“Yeah, Tannis,” Mordecai chides. “It’s been ten years. What’s his name?”

Tannis splutters for a few moments, then stalks over to them, snatching the hunk of meat from his hand.

“Give me my flank back, and get out. I can feel my IQ dropping from your presence alone.”

Chuckling to themselves, the two men are all but chased out of the lab. With Brick’s arm thrown over Mordecai’s shoulders they make their way through the ship, and down to the cargo bay.

They gather around a table with the newest vault hunters for a game of cards, Mordecai smacking at empty air when he catches Zane’s double peeking over his shoulder. Amara relays the tale of her and Brick’s recent spar with plenty of theatrics, while he’s entirely too busy rubbing the belly of Fl4k’s companion skag.

Tina finds them eventually, hair mussed from sleep and wearing her favorite pair of bunny slippers. Complains about all the racket the ‘old people’ have been making before slotting beside Mordecai, playing a game on his Echo.

“This is your daughter?” Fl4k asks, their unblinking eye trained on him.

Mordecai is caught off guard by the question. Sure, Tina’s been calling him _mom_ for years, but he never thought himself to be the parenting type. A person that strangers assumed had kids.

“Sort of,” he answers, briefly looking at Tina. She’s a grown up now, a rare child of Pandora that reached adulthood. Even rarer: she’s happy. 

He turns back to Fl4k. “Mostly a pain in my neck.”

“Watch it, old man,” Tina yawns, not looking up from the screen. “I’m a fu— freakin’ delight.”

“Nice save,” Moze winks, elbowing her ribs.

“And the large man, currently occupied with Mr. Chew,” Fl4k continues. “He is your mate?”

Zane snorts. Amara kicks his shin under the table.

Mordecai looks ahead of them, where Brick is on his knees, excitedly rubbing the skag’s hard belly. It delights in the attention, wiggling and drooling onto the floor below. Brick’s always had a soft spot for the little monsters, but few were as receptive as Mr. Chew.

“Yeah,” Mordecai says, smiling to himself. “Something like that.”


End file.
